Friday, September 8, 2017

Preschool Pandemonium!

This week my elder son, shy of three, started preschool. I had
been prepping him by reading him various books on preschool a couple of weeks
before he started. He seemed excited but I wasn't sure whether he understood
that it would be a new daily routine in which I would not be present, for while
he would exclaim he was going to preschool through an amplified smile he added
"and you come too" as if it were an epithet.

Finding the right preschool
was a travail, admittedly because we were a tad (or more) tardy in our
approach. San Francisco has long waiting lists and anxious parents and I had
made the novice mistake of searching for preschools the same calendar year as I
wanted my child to begin. Even though it was the beginning of the year, most
schools had already closed their admittance for the 2017-2018 school year. I
knew grovelling before their Admission Directors in which I would beg them to
forgive my indiscretion and take my money, wasn't going to get me anywhere so I
ventured on a new plan in which I veiled the truth.

I called up each school I was interested in and explained that
even though I understood admissions were closed, we had recently moved and was
wondering whether there was a waiting list. Empathy may render rigid rules
elastic and one would have more empathy for one that found themselves in an
unavoidable conundrum than someone that admitted carelessness. The intercourse
of a conversation is much more than the mere exchange of words (hence why I
prefer face to face encounters and failing that, over the phone in our
electronic age where we mediate most of our communication through bytes). When
we meet, our integrated intercourse is comprised of words, gesticulation, expressions,
eye movement, tone and pauses. Every pause is pregnant with narrative. From our
primeval existence we survived based on our ability to form patterns and deduce
conclusions therefrom and when we encounter a new person, our minds
instinctively and methodically interpret te gaps. Did you jst notice the two
typos I wrote or did your mind simply read the previous two sentences and fill
in the letters? Our words are patched into a tapestry that other people weave
for us as they subconsciously fill in our narrative.

In my particular case, I flexed the adjective “recently” in order
to obtain an interview. What’s recent is relative but if you attest your
urgency, the other party will most likely impress their own understanding of
what temporal period that is. I attested that we recently moved from New York
and invariably was interrupted by an eruption of emphatics. Most likely the
person on the other end of the line didn’t assume that “recently” was nearly
two years ago, but assured of their own impression, they never asked for me to
quantify. If they weren’t so pliable, I added that I recently gave birth. I
also did this to seed in their mind that I had two potential students and
attendant tuitions.

We were thus fortunate to have received interviews. It may seem a
tad laughable that toddlers have to interview for preschool and have supervised
playdates in which their suitability is assessed, but one crude chord may
compromise a composition.Thankfully, my affable, extroverted son easily won
over his potential peers and teachers.

We were on the fence between two preschools and decided to entreat
both so that we would be the ones to decide which offer to take rather than
have the schools make the decision for us. Fortunately one sent over a
draconian agreement that allowed me to question some of its terms and the
manner of writing while we played out all the pros and cons. A bunch of our
friends told us to pick a preschool based primarily on scheduling. When can you
drop off and pick up? How close is it? All very good considerations.

However, my husband and I were determined to find the very best
curriculum for our son because we are of the opinion that these early, impressionable
years are the most important. You can learn at any time, but learning to learn, which is a predicate to
learning anything, occurs at a young age. At the least, it is easier to mould
these fundamental characteristics at a young age.

Before we looked at preschools, I decided to study the
Waldorf-Steiner, Montessori and Reggio Emilia approaches and decided that the
holistic, community focused Reggio approach in which children learn through
explorative and cooperative projects was most aligned with our philosophies. I
had also read Positive Discipline which I continue to re-read and adopt this
approach with my children at home. Serendipitously, a Reggio inspired positive discipline
school was a short walk away and we got in!

Phew.

We were given the option of accompanying our son for the first
half of the day. I decided to go, if only to be able to witness his routine. The
other parents mostly kept by their kids and played with them, but I was determined
to keep away as I didn’t want L to include me in his understanding of what
preschool entailed.

It was easy to do because as soon as we entered, he ran off to
play! I was surprised to see how my son reacted in a new social
environment- he was the class clown!
Slightly disruptive, he was overall pretty obedient but certainly intent on
attention. He made loud jokes in a clownish voice, once even interrupting a
song about monkeys jumping on the bed to state they were jumping on poop and
then to ensure everyone was on the right page, he exclaimed “that’s funny!” - indeed. Thankfully the teachers understood
his behavior as a means to endear friendships and found him more hilarious than
disruptive. I decided not to intervene and leave them to discipline if need be,
for I didn’t want to undermine their authority.

At first he ran to the trains, which he remembered from his playdate
months ago and then rocked to the sandpit where he stumbled upon a penguin
which he began to play with and after a while my little copacetic carnivore
proudly proclaimed he was cooking him! A teacher nearby nervously laughed and betrayed
her surprise by the enlarged circumference of her eyes.

After free playtime, the kids rounded into circle time where they discussed
their feelings and the activities of the day. Next, armed with orange vests and
holding a rope, they trudged up to the park. It was Tuesday, so park time was
free play. Other days they have structured activities – Wednesdays is Playball,
for instance (which L loved). On return to the school, there was story time,
lunch time, nap time and then project time. L made friends with a boy, S, the
first day and he seems to still be his best mate there (interestingly, I note
that S was born on the very same day as L’s best bud, W).

L didn’t cry the first day but I did. He seemed so grown up! His
life away from our nest was beginning. It was a bittersweet bite of a moment
when L, who was having trouble donning his orange traffic vest, went to his
teacher for help. I had not wanted to intervene because I wanted him to do exactly
what he did, and yet, when he showed the independence and aptitude I had hoped
for, in a shatter of a second I turned triste as I digested my demotion. Ah, the
calamity of change!

Only one other kid cried that first day, her mother with her. I
assumed that the girl had never before been at preschool or had any other carer
but her mother and shot her mother what I thought would be understood as a
supportive look. Later, when we were talking and I said it seemed really
difficult for both of them, her mother sighed in agreement and related her
story which was pretty much the exact opposite of what I assumed (hence the
problem of filling in gaps as I explained above – which you can use of course
to your advantage). Her daughter had been in day care for a long time but had
developed very strong friendships and didn’t want to leave for preschool.

L's school is very proud of its curriculum and the teachers are
constantly being trained to finesse their pedagogical programme. Tonight we have a two hour presentation on
their method so we can apply it at home. And I thought it was a meet and greet!